May 10. Four days ago the magnolia was just starting to open. Then I was able to capture only a new bloom that had not yet opened up. Things have changed since then, and soon they will be changing more.

That privet down in the woods is still blooming away. That tall slim tree to the right is my olive tree. It is possibly a remnant from the old French Vine and Olive Colony, the northern border of which came nearly to my property. There is a small French cemetery about 3.5 miles from my house, and often I am called upon to take visitors to it, since I am one of the few locals who still know where it is.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vine_and_Olive_Colony

The blooms don't show up well here, but I included this shot to present the relationship of the magnolia to the east side of my house. See that satellite dish? That's how I am connected to the internets.

The magnolia was a small plant brought over to our yard in the late 1950s by Ben Tyson, the third owner of Umbria Plantation after Eloise Pickens had to sell it. He, oddly enough, had worked on the construction of the Panama Canal and was now retired. (For more on Umbria, see "The Ghosts of Sawyerville" under the PLACES tab at the top.) The tree has now taken over just about all of the northeast corner of the front hillside, and it certainly cuts down on how much lawn I have to mow. And now it and the volunteer oak tree have just about crowded out that olive tree. No doubt I will have to cut it down soon.

The next day, May 11. Mother's Day, in fact. In honor of the day, let's start with the wild rose that grows on the bank outside the west fence of my back yard. I had always thought it was a Cherokee rose, but most of them seem to be white. Maybe this is what's called a wild prairie rose. Or maybe not.

Lots of white clover in bloom out there too. Not a single honeybee. Maybe the mosquitoes ran them off. We've got a bumper crop of those already this year. Even in the middle of the day, when I was out and about with camera.

I miss the honeybees, but it does seem like the bumblebee population is on the rise. I wonder how that will affect what flowers sill continue.

Across the highway Virginia creeper is taking over the ruin of Martin's Store. Every year it seems to erupt overnight.

On the west side of the old store honeysuckle is intermingled with the creeper. First year I have noticed that. Maybe it will be spectacular next spring.

After the Walton Store to the west burned, someone cleared the growth from the lot behind, exposing this sliding metal door that once separated the brick store from the original Martin wood store, used for storage.

East side from further back.For more about the Martin and Walton stores, see "The Ghosts of Sawyerville," under the PLACES tab at the top.

From even further back, with views of the rear of the post office, Martin's Store on the far right, the corner of the Sawyerville Convenience Store on the far left, and my house and yard and store across the highway in the center. The shot was taken from just about where the old ice house used to be, and in my childhood the Johnny Pickens establishment that provided music, food, recreation, and haircuts to the black population would have blocked the view of my house and store.

The road straight ahead used to be the main highway through Sawyerville. It ran alongside the railroad tracks, which were just to the right of this road. Down the road to the left was the brick house Mr. T. built for Miss Bill, although family rumor has it that he really built it for my Aunt Mamie but she wouldn't marry him after all.

Same road, slightly different angle. Right me was the site of the old Sawyerville train depot. In early years, stores tended to face this road and the railroad, as is the case in many old Southern and Western towns. When the main drag was moved a good city block to the left, stores were moved or built to face it. That's when the big brick store was built.This old road, the main connection between Greensboro and Eutaw and Akron to the west, crossed the railroad track 7 times in the 8 mile stretch eastward between Sawyerville and Greensboro. I don't remember quite that far back. By the time I came along the new road crossed only once, via an overpass a couple of miles west of Greensboro. Now, no more railroad. No more overpass.

In front of Martin's Store, looking back at my property and the county road leading south. Actually we are right proud of that yellow caution light that blinks at the main intersection. I do believe that it has cut down on the number of car wrecks in the community. The light hasn't been struck by a passing truck in some time, so it must be hanging a bit higher these days.

From same spot, looking at my neighbor's house to the west of that county road. He died a few months back, having been moved from Sawyerville to his son's home for reasons of health. A tidbit of interest at least to me: beams from the old Enoch Sawyer house, which stood just to the west of this one, were used in the foundations for this house. Enoch Sawyer was the first Sawyerville post master, and the community was named after him. Earlier the post office for the area was a little over a mile to the west, in the old town called Hollow Square. (For more about Hollow Square, take a look at the Hollow Square Cemetery post under the PLACES tab at the top.)

It was hot out there about 12:30 when I was taking these pictures. Nearly 85 and incredibly muggy and the air filled with mosquitoes and no-seeums. I've made it back across the highway and am standing in the driveway to my garage looking though the covered patio at the back yard and woods behind.(That is cat briar hanging off the fence onto the driveway. One of the few plants I actually find it possible to hate.)

Standing in the garage looking through the door into the yard. Those nandinas don't quite disguise the pump house, but they help. (Do people actually plant nandinas anymore? With me it's more of a matter of trying to keep them in check.) The pair of Adirondack chairs on the patio were made by Tom's father the year I was born. The old school desk was one of those collected by my sister when she was once directing a high school production of The Thread That Runs So True.

Now that we've made it back into the yard, do we have time for a few more flowers? Oh hell yes. The dootsie is particularly pretty today, I think. I love the way it drapes.

The honeysuckle on the east fence is in full bloom now. Ah, that poor fence! Everything from car wrecks to fallen limbs have damaged it over the years. But I don't have to worry: no goats to keep in the pasture, no dogs to keep in the yard

It is pretty. I've always liked that mixture of white and gold in the blooms. If only it would grow where I want it to grow and not where I don't. Like entwined in my azaleas.

I'm up the hill from the magnolia tree looking just to the east of south. I'm glad that my house is atop this little hill. I don't have to worry all that much about flooding. Of course, hillsides are somewhat problematic for some of us older codgers to mow!In the days when my mother was in charge, this hillside was filled with iris of all sorts, daffodils, tulips, and narcissus, and it was spectacular in springtime. Passersby would stop their cars and marvel. I can still push a mower, but I don't bend and stoop all that well. Nowadays grassy lawn instead of bulbs.

Really hot now. Time to go in. I'll close this out with a couple of shots of the old-fashioned roses. They don't last long, and I have to grab then while I can.

May 21. A good 10 days later. A good month before summer officially begins. Some while back I watched a supplement on the Blu-ray of Bernie, and one of the townsfolk who participated in the movie was interviewed. "We have 4 seasons here in East Texas: early summer, summer, late summer, and Christmas." That resonated with me. Seasons in Sawyerville have only the most tenuous relationship with he calendar.We could call this late spring or early summer. I'll pretend it's spring a little longer. And lush it is right now. Green everywhere. Even the kudzu (which I lack, not that I'm complaining) has put on green leaves. That interloper is the last one to put out leaves in the spring and the first to go all brown and dead-looking in the fall. The oaks in my woods are about as green as they are going to get.

The Virginia creeper has really flourished. It seems to be all over the ground down in my woods . . .

. . . and up the old oak down in the southeast corner of my yard. I rather like the vine. It doesn't seem to be particularly harmful. Certainly better to try to get along with something this prolific than constantly to be in a state of battle with it.

Of course, once the creeper gets established, here comes the poison oak which frequently hides among the nicer vines. Now this I do battle. I'm seeing enough of it in the yard to make me realize that it is time to get out the poison. Maybe later this morning.Note the 3 leaves, instead of the 5 on the creeper. And the green is a bit ickier-looking (or maybe since I associate that shade of green with the poisonous plant that I think it icky).

At least today life is quiet. My 97-year-old cousin's pacemaker implant went smoothly yesterday and he had a stable night. My ears, deafened temporarily by my recent infection, seem to be improving. No trips away from house and yard seem necessary today (although I will have to see my ear doctor tomorrow morning). I can just be lazy. I love lazy. (Still, that poison oak beckons, and probably I should get out the lawn mower for a while after lunch.)

Little color in the yard at present (I don't expect much now until the Black-Eyed Susans turn up). There are a few of the blue Dutch iris still visible in this stand, if you look closely enough. That's clematis mixed with a bit of honeysuckle on the west fence. I may pull it, I may let it hang there until the clematis has bloomed later in the summer. I love clematis in bloom.

But this mess of vines on the fence between the store and garage does require attention, and soon. Lots of cat briar in here. Do you know cat briar? You're lucky if you don't. It can grow 3 feet over night, and the thorns are even worse than rose thorns. They simply don't make work gloves strong enough to keep them from tearing your hands.See my rural route mailbox out from the garage? I decided to get that set up and functioning some years ago, just in case they ever do dispense totally with our local post office (we're on reduced hours now). Seemed like a good idea to be prepared ahead of time and not wait until such time as we do lose the convenience of our own office.

Looking up at Sawyerville from down the hill you can see the mailbox again, between my camera and my store. Although my address is on State Highway 14, it is more convenient to have the mailbox on the county road side, even if it does mean I am the last delivery on the route.Note how green those crepe mytles between the garage and the road are now. Just wait until summer!

Looking down the hill from where I took the photo above you can see the lushness of the trees overhanging the county road.I love this county road. When I think generically of "road" this is the one that comes to my mind.

Yes, I know that I am repetitious in the images that I shoot again and again. Still, as I have said before, I am interested in documenting my local landscape during the course of an entire year. Purpose involves repetition. In a way my inspiration has been the work of artist William Christenberry. Do you know him? Here's an introduction: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Christenberry

(And you will note that he took inspiration from another photographer, one Walker Evans, whose collaboration with James Agee on Let Us Now Praise Famous Men very much involves Hale County where I live.)(And you will further note that although I take inspiration from all of them I do not compare with them in accomplishment.) And here you will find some photos of Christenberry as well as some of the photographs he has taken in Hale County:http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=William+Christenberry+Photography&FORM=RESTAB

(If you scan down far enough, you'll even find his photo of the old Sawyerville railroad sign. I have a shot of that which may turn up on this site someday.)

The old-fashioned wild roses outside my west fence are just about gone now. They don't last long, once they start blooming.

The patch of canna lilies behind my house is thriving. In a few more weeks they will be twice this tall and full of bright orange blooms. They seem to love the sun here on the south side of the house, and they get plenty of moisture from the drip from the air conditioner.To the right of that concrete slab is the remains of the old well dug by my grandfather before I was born. I can recall when there was a hand pump on that slab, and we got our water by manually pumping it out of the well. At some point, when I was, I think, 2 years old, we finally got electricity, and then we were able to put an electric-powered pump in the well. After WW2 we finally got a drilled well and filled in the old dug well. It still subsides, and every few years I add a bit more dirt. And my water supply still comes from that drilled well.

Down the hill the dootsie still has a few blooms. Not many now.That window offers the south view from my usual bedroom. I find myself sleeping back there more these days (or nights) and using the middle bedroom as a dressing room. I have 2 windows on the east side of this bedroom as well. When my blinds are open I feel surrounded by green.

The magnolia on the front hillside still has lots of blooms. That cedar tree on the left is at the foot of the hill in the northeast corner of my yard. I've taken down the other cedars, mostly in the back yard and down the hill on the east side of the house, because they became infected with cedar-apple rust. Somehow this tree has avoided that. For now. But it's too big for me to take down myself in any case.

That oak on the right volunteered in that bridal wreath bush some 25 years ago. I should have cut it down then. I had no idea it would grow so big so fast. It to is far too large for me to deal with myself. It looms over the main power line to my house. My present thinking: if it falls and breaks the power line, I'll get that fixed. And then it will be down. And if it outlives me, let somebody else worry about it!

Here's my small patch of wild garlic, all that I didn't mow down during the last week or so. I never can remember when to pull it, I think the first week in June. It is nice to use, sweeter and more delicate than the garlic you buy in stores (although I love that and use lots of it).My mother got the wild garlic started on the rear hillside because of its reputed power as a mole repellant. I'm not convinced that it worked.

The stump itself is all that's left of a pear tree that stood here for much of my life. (I tend to leave stumps and let time take care of them.) Lots of pears for relishes, preserves, and pear cake (which is wonderful).Here's the recipe:

(Elizabeth Corbett was the Methodist preacher's wife during my last 4 years of high school. She gave my mother the recipe.)On the front porch Sibling is still hanging on. I believe that she turned 14 this spring. No spring kitten. The last animal on the place, other than me. Tame ones (relatively speaking), that is. There's a lot more about her and her sister Catalina under the CATS tab above.I am still amazed how Sibling has blossomed after that mean old Catalina's death over a year ago. That girl terrorized her sister!

Down in the woods the Virginia creeper is advancing over the old picnic table that the goats used love to get on top of. The goats would have never permitted these vines and the privet to take over!